


Fried Dough

by justanothersong



Series: Tumblr Prompts [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluffiest Fluff Ever to Fluff, Food, M/M, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-06
Updated: 2014-02-06
Packaged: 2018-01-11 08:57:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1171162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justanothersong/pseuds/justanothersong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt from the wonderful LiteraryOblivion:<br/><i>Dean/Cas, state fair (preferably "of Texas" but I'm biased), either something involving the fried foods or the pig races. (If you have no idea what to do/what I mean, go with whatever you want. I ain't picky.)</i></p><p>Was supposed to be three sentences, but... oops?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fried Dough

It was the smell that really hit Castiel first. Sure, they had passed all the blinking lights of the rides and games, the noises cattle and other livestock in the stalls, the crunch of gravel and straw beneath their feet, but nothing really brought it home to Castiel like the scent of the place flavoring the air of the humid August night. There was motor oil and grease, the stink of the animals and their messes, and on top of it all the sweetness of burnt sugar and the delicious aroma of hot buttered popcorn. It was unlike anything the former angel had ever experienced, and it seemed somehow the very crux of humanity.

“So Cas, whattya think?” Dean asked, a crooked smile on his face, moss-colored eyes light up by the flickering bulbs of the nearby Ferris wheel.

 

Castiel had been human for a little over a year now. It had happened some six months after they had managed to put things to rights; it was sketchy, for a while there, but the angel that had been hitchhiking in Sam’s chassis had eventually seen through Metatron’s selfish reasoning and decided to help the Winchesters. Heaven had been restored and snapped shut, Abbadon had been tossed into a newly engineered cage that was only rivaled by Lucifer’s, Gadreel had taken on the vessel of a brain-dead man in Nova Scotia and sent them occasional postcards about his newfound passion for deep sea fishing, and while Crowley was still out and kicking somewhere, he was off the radar. 

The Winchesters found they had time, suddenly. Time they could use for whatever they wanted. Sam had bought a used pick-up truck and hit the road, determined to find himself somewhere on the lost highways; he’d send short cards and letters, and Dean noted by the postmarks that his little brother had been visiting some old graves. Castiel sincerely hoped the younger Winchester would find whatever he was looking for.

Castiel had surrendered the Grace he had stolen as soon as the power it afforded was no longer needed. He had been unsure, at the time, but Dean had only smiled and gently replied that he’d like to see Cas growing old beside him; it seemed the final word Castiel had needed, knowing the hunter wanted him to say, and not for his ‘angel mojo’. He had said a silent prayer of apology to his brother before ripping it away, watching the sudden and brilliant growth of an astonishingly beautiful black walnut tree where it landed. It took time before he was able to settle into his own bones again.

Dean didn’t hunt much anymore, leaving it to ‘the new crop of hunters’, as he called them, but he still took Castiel on the occasional job that caught his interest. They had driven all the way to Cheektowaga, New York, to settle up a spook that had been killing off all of the local wildlife and freaking out the nearby schoolchildren.

(“Squirrels, Cas,” Dean had said, laughing hard enough to bring tears to his eyes. “Dude’s been offing all the squirrels! We gotta go check this out.”)

The job had been easy and quick, a simple salt and burn of an old man who hadn’t been fond of the local rodent population, and Castiel found himself in upstate New York with Dean, with nothing much to do and no hurry to head home.

“Hey Cas, check it out!” Dean had said, grinning at a poster hung in the entryway of a small diner that carried the familiar scent of pancake syrup and coffee even in the parking lot. “Erie County Fair, started last night. Not too far out of a drive… whattya say?”

 

Castiel had agree. With nothing to hunt and no newly threatened apocalypse in the offing, Dean had taken it upon himself to teach Castiel what it truly meant to be human, beyond the trappings of a nine to five job, disastrous sex, and all of the things that Castiel had found out for himself. Dean was teaching him the finer things, the little moments of wonder that were taken for granted, never appreciated for what they could truly be.

Super Bowl commercials.

Taffy apples.

Miniature golf.

Warm cinnamon sugar pretzels from the local mall.

Buffy the Vampire Slayer reruns.

Jersey sheets.

Gosling’s Black Seal rum.

Drinking a glass of cool water while chewing peppermint gum.

It was all so strange and wonderful, and Dean’s nearly childlike glee in showing Castiel and little wonders of being human made it all the better. Not for the first time, Castiel marveled at the beauty of Dean’s soul, even though he couldn’t see it any longer. It was no surprise to Castiel that Dean Winchester was the Righteous Man; he loved the world as much as any god should, and reveled in the small things that brought him joy. And now, Castiel was treated to sharing that joy.

Any angel could only wish to be so fortunate.

 

“It is… really something, Dean,” Castiel replied with a gummy smile, and Dean grinned. Days spent as Steve the minimart cashier had stripped away much of the formality of the former angel’s speech, and he had begun picking up many of Dean’s own phrases. It seemed the hunter enjoyed it very much when Castiel spoke so informally – or, better yet, cursed – and Castiel found that he liked to see Dean grin.

There was something else there now, something they had ghosted on over their years together but never quite touched. It was humming softly in the quiet moments between them, something alive and wild and just out of reach. It was strange, but somehow perfect; there were shyer smiles now, accidental touches that perhaps were not so accidental. On some level, Castiel knew exactly what it was, and knew that he wanted it.

Probably more than anything he had ever wanted, in all of his existence.

 

“Okay, check this out,” Dean announced. Castiel had been lost in thought and hadn’t even notice Dean slip away to a nearby booth, returning with something that smelled delicious. A circular piece of some kind of bread, fried to a golden brown, rest atop a paper plate, dusted over with a mound of powdered sugar. The scent of sweetness and oil hit Castiel’s nose and his stomach gave an answering rumble, in spite of the many confections – ice cream and cotton candy and what was apparently the best saltwater taffy outside of a boardwalk – already sampled that day. 

“Fried dough!” Dean announced happily. “Smells great, huh?” The hunter tore off a chunk of the warm bread before offering the plate to Castiel, stuffing the dough into his mouth and letting out a pleased groan that made Castiel’s stomach flip-flop. 

He reached out and tugged off a portion of his own, tasting the wonderful yeasty dough so perfectly sweetened and fried so that it practically melted on his tongue, and reaching out for another piece before he’d even finished. Dean only chuckled and tore off more of his own, the two walking and feasting on the treat as they went, watching passersby with their balloons and carnival game prizes, smiling on and on and on.

“This is wonderful, Dean,” Castiel said, glancing only a bit forlornly as the last bite on the grease-spotted paper plate.

Dean chuckled again and held the plate out, offering the last taste of sweetness to Castiel. With a grateful smile, the former angel took it and sighed happily at the taste. Dean tossed the paper plate into a nearby trash bin, sucking the last bits of powdered sugar off of his fingertips before turning back and grinning again, earning an endearingly familiar blue-eyed squint and tilt of a tousled head of dark hair for his trouble.

“Cas, man, you got…” he started, tapping a spot above his own lip.

“Hmm? Oh,” Castiel responded, quick pink tongue swiping across his lip to catch the last crumbs and sugary dust from his mouth.

Dean shook his head and laughed. “No, man, you missed, it’s…” he started, and then something strange happened.

There was a light in the hunter’s eyes again, but not coming from any rickety carnival ride of evening lamp set up to light the fairgrounds. It was sudden and perfect and Castiel knew, he knew what it meant, and he simply waited, expression innocent and wide-eyed until he felt the gentle pressure of Dean’s plush lips against his own.

Castiel closed his eyes and let out a happy little sigh, feeling the quick swipe of Dean’s tongue across his mouth, catching the last of the sugar, before parting his own lips and offering a similar greeting, melting easily against the hunter and feeling flannel-clad arms encircling his waist as they stood at the county fair in a strange little city, far from home.

A wolf-whistle nearby was what drew them back to the world, breaking the kiss but not pulling apart, staring at each other, smiling and flushed on the warm August night. Dean glanced away shyly beneath his thick lashes, heat in his cheeks but a grin on his face.

“Hey Cas,” he said quietly, arms still around his angel.

“Hello Dean,” Castiel responded.

“C’mon,” Dean told him, freeing the other man from his embrace but slipping his calloused hand into Castiel’s as they began to walk. “Let’s go on the Ferris wheel.”

**Author's Note:**

> The Erie County Fair in Hamburg, NY is real and happens every August. Go and get some taffy and fried dough.
> 
> Follow me on [Tumblr](http://literatec.tumblr.com), if you wish.
> 
> Please do not add this, or any of my posted works, to Goodreads. Thank you.


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